


shooting stars and silver moons

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, but in that good kind of way, life being overwhelming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6439963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first meltdown comes seven hours into the first day of rehearsal.</p><p>Prompt: for him. by troye sivan (phan)</p>
            </blockquote>





	shooting stars and silver moons

The first meltdown comes seven hours into the first day of rehearsal.  


Dan sits along the edge of a wall with his head in his hands, heart pounding. It’s somewhere between panic and just being overwhelmed, straddling the line without spilling over mostly thanks to the pressure of Phil’s hand on his knee and the solid door closing them off to all the people milling around outside. 

“This doesn’t feel real,” Dan mumbles. 

Phil just makes a sound of agreement. 

“But it is real.” Dan makes himself breathe. He’s tired, didn’t sleep the night before, too nervous. He’s always his own worst enemy. 

Phil agrees, again. His hand goes from Dan’s leg to around his shoulders, tucking Dan in against him. 

“And we won’t die.” 

“Probably not,” Phil says. 

“Prob-” Dan laughs, and elbows him. “That’s your encouragement?” 

“Well.” A smile twitches at the corners of Phil’s mouth. “I wouldn’t want to lie to you, and there’s really no way to be completely sure there won’t be an alien attack or a zombie outbreak. Apocalypse, even.” 

“I might prefer the apocalypse.” 

“You say that now, but just wait,” Phil says. His smile is serene to the point of creepy, if you didn’t know him. 

“Wait until what?” Dan takes the bait.  

“Until the zombies are munching your arm.” Phil turns abruptly and makes biting motions at Dan’s shoulder, sinking his teeth in lightly through Dan’s t-shirt. Through the mouth full of material he says, “Omnom.”

Dan laughs, loud and uncontrolled. He playfully shoves Phil away. “You’re drooling on me, you idiot.” 

“You like a little drool sometimes.” Phil smirks, that unabashed one the cameras rarely see. 

It still has the power to make Dan duck his head and smile. “Pervert,” he says. 

“We will be fine,” Phil says, kissing Dan on the top of his head. It makes Dan feel young but also very loved and that’s what Phil’s best at. 

*

“Do you remember that time time you came to visit me?” Laying in bed, watching the minutes pass that should be spent sleeping. Phil’s just not tired yet, and Dan’ll take another half hour to wind down at least. 

“Oh, that _one time_?” Dan laughs. He looks over at Phil, then shuts his laptop. As much appeal as the internet holds, sometimes Phil, with wearing nothing above the waist, with glasses on and a day’s shadow across his jaw, exuding sleepy warmth and familiarity, is just a stronger draw. 

“When Martyn was home and we all went to his friend’s house and got drunk?” Phil says. “I think it was the first time you saw me drunk.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Dan laughs. “I was terrified, you know that?” 

“I know,” Phil says. “I felt bad dragging you along. I think that was the first time I realized what you meant when you said you didn’t like going out with big groups.” 

“Did it for you, though,” Dan says. He settles down lower on the bed, turning onto his side to look at Phil. “I’d have done fucking anything for you. Still would.” 

It’s a casual admission, like reeling off a grocery list as he heads out the door. 

Phil leans over and kisses his cheek. He’s one for those sweet gestures, and Dan’s one for receiving them, smile creeping from soft to dimpled. It works out well. “Good,” Phil says. “Go turn off the light, then.” 

*

“You look happy,” Phil says. 

They’re sat comfily, tucked up together in a way that looks slouchy but feels fantastic after a long day. The initial panic faded as the routine became familiar and now Dan’s biggest concern is this, hoarding closeness and intimacy. He is all too aware that they’ll have two long months of constant pressure to be neither too much nor too little, to not make a spectacle of this thing between them that everyone else is so fucking fascinated by. 

But it’s okay, right here and now, with Phil’s arm around him and the television going and their stomachs full and another day of rehearsal winding to an end. And it’ll be okay in a month, when he’s far out of his comfort zone and days into something new and scary. 

After a pause Dan says, “I do?” and then, “I am.” 

*

There’s a moment where Dan wakes in the middle of the night. 

It’s not a slow crawl, but a sudden drop into crystal clear awareness. His heart pounds with the remnants of a dream he’s already forgotten. 

Phil’s laying on his back, one arm slung over his head. Dan doesn’t have to look to know. He feels the warm pressure of Phil’s hip against his own butt and he can hear Phil breathing and it’s lacking the slight rasp he’s used to. 

(It’s not quite a snore but it’s gotten worse over the years, so Dan thinks it’ll get there before too long.)

“Why are you awake?” Dan asks. 

His voice seems loud in the night, but Phil is clearly not asleep. 

Phil jerks. “Shit. You scared me.” 

Dan laughs and rolls over onto his other side to face Phil. “Boo.” 

“You’re supposed to say that before, not after.” 

“I’m a rebel.” He reaches out to push Phil’s unruly hair off of his forehead. “Really, though.” 

“You really are a rebel,” Phil agrees. 

“Phil.” 

“It’s just.” Phil’s breath hitches slightly. “A lot, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Dan says. 

And this is how Phil does it: quiet, no drama, all in his head. Sometimes it still scares Dan how quickly it feels like Phil can be a mystery to him. 

It used to make him feel helpless. But by now he knows enough to know to move in close and hold Phil tight even when it takes Phil a moment to respond, and he knows from the way Phil eventually slumps against him that Phil appreciates it and by morning he’ll be ready to talk. 

*

“Coffee?” Dan asks, shrugging his jacket so it sits more comfortable on his shoulders. “Is it worth it?” 

He doesn’t even look in the mirror. It’ll only reflect the bleariness he feels right down to a molecular level. Why aren’t they used to this yet? 

“Coffee,” Phil agrees, desperation rasping his morning voice. “I hate oversleeping.” 

“They’ll just take us for the divas that we are.” Dan glances around, his regular check; candles out, nothing on fire, no stray pigeons. 

The schedule is kicking their asses, still. They’ve got just enough lazy mornings and late nights and and days where every timetable only depends on each other. It’s almost insane how quickly they’re capable of reverting back to a world that is just the two of them and no one more. 

Dan misses it already. Even when just doing their own things - Phil reading a book, watching television, Dan playing a game - there’s a base note of something soothing to the fact that the gap to close is only a room away. 

“Worth it for coffee.” Phil rubs his hands over his face and lets out a strangled, frustrated noise, like he can rumble the sleepiness right off of his edges. His eyes do look a little brighter when he looks back up, maybe there’s something to it. “Okay, let’s go.” 

* 

One more rehearsal. Two days off. Then, flight. 

“How much of the washing left?” 

“Three loads, I think,” Phil says. “We’ll do those tomorrow.” 

“Before or after Bryony?” 

“After.” Phil pauses. He blows out the candle. Dan does his little check around. “Maybe day after.” 

“Definitely day after.” Dan figures it’s best not to delude themselves. It’s their last game night for a while, he doesn’t want to rush it. “We’ll just need to be up by - ten, I guess?” 

“It’s already in piles.” Phil looks at them. “Many piles.” 

“Unorganized piles.” 

“Scary piles.” 

“We’ll organize before bed tomorrow,” Dan decides. “And start the wash the day after. We can start it, then get back in bed.” 

Phil’s face brightens. “Yes.” 

“And probably just sleep more, like the boring creatures that we are.” 

“Sleep.” Phil sighs wistfully. “I love sleep.” 

“And then we pack.” 

“Scary packing.” 

“Very.” Dan tries not to look at the suitcases already in the hallway, waiting to be filled. Two months. It’s a long time. “But we are brave.” 

“One of us is.” Phil smiles and there’s no joke, there’s no punchline. 

“You’re disgusting.” Dan leans in and kisses him, cupping a cheek. “I hate how disgusting you are.” 

One arm goes around Dan’s waist, a light little squeeze. “I know you do. Now lets go. Another day awaits.” 

Dan steals a final kiss but takes his hand, even if just to hold until they step outside together. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Read and reblog on tumblr. :)](http://alittledizzy.tumblr.com/post/142143952515/for-him-by-troye-sivan-phan)


End file.
